Out of the hospital, he felt like a different person. His wife and kids around him made him feel free again. There were the usual discussions but they were nothing compared to the stress of a day at a hospital and of the extra work as an investigator to carry out. His wife would have liked to make him realize how slim she had become after a heavy diet but he didn’t notice it. He was so immersed in his problems and being responsible of due-to-die people on a daily basis. That was his reality. And to add to it there was the mysterious case of a murder. What he was seeking once at home was the contact with life. He lifted his chin and finally realized how beautiful his wife was. She was thrilled. His mind was free from problems and prone to taste some enjoyment whatever. He also forgot to call Araon. Never mind. His researches could wait. Now he was tired and relaxed on the sofa from where he could hear his wife snoring in the bedroom.
The moon was provocative that night. It was very much thoughts-inspiring. One, two, three. Van der Baast was in bed next to his wife. The name of the gland dysfunction crossed his mind several times and that added a severe tone to his exploration of the murder case. To be free from prejudices he switched on the TV at a very low volume so as not to wake his wife up. He couldn’t concentrate on the news. He was far from the plain unvarnished truth. He finally closed his eyes and entered the realm of dreams. The cat kept them company all the night. The dust accumulated at the bed borders provoked a sneeze. But nothing could disturb the quiet of the two until the following day. The noise of the washing machine upstairs also finished as a thunder. Van der Baast was reminded to sort of undergoing a rejuvenating process in his ultimate thoughts before falling asleep. Without his beard he could look ten years younger. This was a frightful sort of reality for a wife who lived in the fear of losing her fascinating husband. But Van der Baast made of this a sort of silly reality. Four o’ clock: the cat was still there. He went under the bed as any cat would do and started to purr. The reason for which he went back to the night with his imagination. Five o’ clock: the washing machine upstairs started working again. Some rain touched gently the window of the bedroom. The gale outside could be compared to a gale of laughter. Six o’clock: nothing. Seven o’clock: time to get up. The night was not bed at all for a man of such responsibilities as a doctor. He did nothing else than kissing his wife with apologies and undertake the way to work.
One of the most frequent dreams of Araon was the adventure playground. It might have irritated him a lot that night. It depicted the picture of his infancy which wasn’t very happy having lost his dad in a car crash. What vexed Araon was the mistrust he ought to put in that place. Here he saw children playing soccer with harmony. Ice creams were offered every hour by a white man. A woman in her early twenties was sitting on a bench busy with her crosswords. Her mind was working sweetly. A dog was snatching the skirt of an elderly woman. But, far in the distance, there was the shade of an old brewery where lay a dead body in an advanced state of decomposition.. It was in the ultimate decay. It was something very puzzling that put at stake the reputation of the owner of the brewery whose only concern was the ale and the like. But once arrived back in the park, he found himself isolated from the rest of the world in tune with his reputation as a brave man. Jill was a long way from him and the rest of the world at peace with her own memories. She was busy hanging out the washing. That was a familiar picture of their marriage. A dog with a boned piece of meat made his part. After all it was only a dream. Guys banished from church because of their consuming activities took a rest in the park. It seemed a trait of wonderland. Araon was constantly laughing and crying at the same time over his last hopes. But probably he had other chances. Jill was not there and that worried him a bit. He was looking forward to being together to dance a jovial tango. Her smart dress was suitable for the occasion. The smell of flowers captivated the young couple that now went to disappear in the bushes. A big breath and Araon come back to reality. He woke up very shaken by the memory of what he had dreamt during the night. Jill was not next to him. She was in the kitchen with the omelets and fried eggs ready for her husband. Araon was reluctant to tell Jill the content of the dream since she would be able to interpret it and find unwanted realities. It was not just an option to separate marital life from working life. Jill prepared for her a lighter breakfast: natural honey with toast, butter and marmalade. A cup of coffee with milk completed the gorgeous breakfast. From those small things Araon considered himself a man born with a silver spoon. He was still dumb and under the influence of the dream. Jill was smiling sweetly. She knew her husband very well and she didn’t want to make disturbing enquiries about his peculiar mood. “I’m been up since seven o’clock this morning,” she said. “I found it strange that you didn’t wake up before half past eight. Did you sleep well?”
“There is nothing wrong with me. Probably I’m tired because of the recent overwork. I have embraced this responsibility and I want to fulfil my duty rightly for the sake of your wellbeing. I see you look gorgeous in your white dress. Are you planning to go somewhere this morning?” said Araon.
“It’s up to you. I just want to be la belle to your eyes, that’s it. I’m trying to figure out if there is something wrong with my daily matters at home. You see, I’ve waited for you to have breakfast. Now I think you need a shower just to get rid of your torpor,” said Jill.
Araon didn’t take long to pull nearer Jill and kiss her. He knew love by name. He was aware that it was up to him not to make their marriage fail. So far it was a success. Finally, he left the table, wore his slippers and went to have a shower. Jill could hear him singing as he did every morning when washing himself. It was so funny. These small things contributed to bring joy and long-lasting delights in the couple’s life. So distant, so near: this was their motto. The sky outside was cloudy and overcast. Definitely not a good omen. But it was not enough to stop a young couple going out for a walk. They reached the nearest park to have a rest and breath healthy air. Araon took Jill for granted as far as getting things going. But, apparently, there was nothing about it in his premonitory dream. He watched dejected his glamorous wife who looked stunning in that white gown. She easily turned eyes and Araon couldn’t stand the situation. He was far too jealous. He wasted time seeking something that would remind him of his dream. There were strong confrontations between his life as an honest and brave man and the soliloquy of his dreams. Sure enough, he smelled the odour of an old brewery in the air. It was a ghost brewery without a barman, no beer, no place to chat. It was the final destination of the unlucky solitaries of the city. Jill had no idea how far her husband was going in his thoughts. She just needed love. Araon hold her hand tightly and started kissing her with all his desire of the flesh. He had taken a liking to his wife’s dress. “What a pity!” he said.
“What’s the matter love?” said Jill.
“Nothing important. We are in a park and see a lot of withered flowers,” Araon said.
“I just don’t understand you,” she said.
“I repeat, it’s nothing really important. Follow me,” Araon replied.
The couple approached a bush and started to count the leaves of a tree. “It’s a remedy for all our memories,” said Araon.
“I just cannot understand you,” whispered Jill.
Araon gave a halt to his imagination and did the best thing he was able to do: to kiss Jill in front of everybody. He had the same instinct as a child who was stubborn and recalcitrant in front of his mum. In those moments he had the soul of a seven-year-old child, which was fun for Jill. They were simply divine, so different from any other couple of their age. They wanted to be clean at all costs.
Mark the homeless was very busy that Thursday morning. He was a guest at the local library where he was looking for news of the ancestors of the nun, Christine, the nun who was in charge of giving biscuits to the patients in the hospital. There was something weird about her. Everybody knew that in the past she had worked a lot as a police informer regarding a series of murders. When
she finished her tour of the hospital she used to watch from up on the roof. People were very annoyed by that legend, but nobody dared to be rude to the mysterious nun. She was a lady of Italian origin who had lived a long time in London before she finally settled in Amsterdam. To be a nun was not a calling but a need for her. Mark found in the library the names of all the people related to her. There was the head of a sanctuary, the local police officer, the flower vendors around the corner. Nun Christine was the apple of the head of the hospital eyes. That made Mark cantankerous. He wanted to see the end of his researches very soon. He had in mind a precious thing: a link between the nun’s ancestors and the blood on the pub door. Mark was a staunch believer but he didn’t deny the fragility of the people in a church. He saw nun Christine as a spy against whom somebody fishy was looking for revenge. A lot of people finished in jail because of her co-operation with the police. But things now have turned on the other side the handle of the knife. Mark left the library quite late, but not satisfied at all. It was time to go to his shelter where doctors and nurses were waiting for him. He extracted the notes from his pockets, folded them and rushed towards his own room. He was nosey to know how his guardian angels would react because of his long absence.
He went to the kitchen not to die of starvation and to have a black hot coffee when he accidentally met nun Christine. She was very happy to see him and she didn’t show any sign of guilt or of a hidden secret. She smiled with affection before she opened her mouth. “You look tired today, don’t you?” she said.
Mark pretended to ignore her, but in the end he muttered, “Well, I was very busy today. I tried to grab some odd job here and there so as not to spend the day doing nothing. I know soon there will be a mass at the usual place. Do you think the patients will be happy to attend it?” he said.
“Sure. It’s totally free, it’s not compulsory. It would be a big burden for me to realize that most patients here are not believers. But now tell me about you. You have been here for three months but I have not learnt yet what hides that clumsy smile,” she said.
“I undertake a lot of hobbies that makes me look inexperienced. But there isn’t anything peculiar about me that I can tell you. I am enjoying myself a lot in a place where I receive nothing else than affection. You sound to be a mother surrogate. Am I wrong?” he said.
“I’m pissing about! You shouldn’t talk like that. Now come with me. I’ll show you something,” she said.
They left the room, entered the lift and arrived at the top floor of the hospital. They entered the doctor’s office without knocking and saw Doctor Smith absorbed in reading of a pile of letters. “You see these?” Nun Christine said. This is the correspondence we have been receiving since you have lived with us. It sounds queer, doesn’t it?” she carried on.
“I don’t know what you are talking about. I haven’t got pen-mail friends or secret wooers,” Mark said a bit sour.
“But we are not complaining. We are just pointing out that this is a bit bizarre, do you not think?” the nun said.
“I am not interested in that matter, that’s it.” Mark said aloud.
“We don’t want to arouse your interest in these letters. We just feel we have the duty to inform you. Now you are free to go if you want. I have to carry own with my stuff,” Nun Christine said.
The doctor shook hands with Mark and accompanied him politely to the door.” See you next time,” he murmured. The clock was very cruel to Mark. It was already five p.m. A nice afternoon, as he called it. He would have liked to lie down but he had no time. He was used to keeping well in his mind all his duties. He had to adjust with an ink all the addresses of the material he had brought with himself from the library with great attention. It was for his freedom’s sake that he was doing like that.
“Nun Christine, here she is” he said to himself once he had given a glance at the information he held on the woman. He seemed to have a fidgety mood. He needed time to study the case. For the moment it was enough what he had learnt. He was captive to the idea of being in a very dangerous situation. It was fair enough. The vicissitudes of the recent facts had turned him into a criminal seeker. Blundering and dazed he got some coffee from the coffee-machine. He was nervous more and more. He had an empty day in front of him. He watched the staff leaving their place and saw sirens blowing in. He went up and down the corridor not knowing what to do.
“Oh Mark! What are you doing?” A voice reached him from behind him. It was a patient who knew him very well. Mark pretended not to have heard him. “What’s wrong with you today?” the man carried on.
Finally, Mark answered with a bit of irony. He had received lessons on how to be polite in his recent past. He had a joke with the man and then he carried on his own way.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was hen party time for Jill. One of her best friends, Jip Karks, was soon to marry a rich Danish businessman. Jill was absolutely thrilled. She introduced herself to the flock at the party with a huge smile, carrying a little present for Jip. Jill’s entrance to the room aroused the attention of everybody present because of her staggering figure She immediately bumped into few tiny serene women who were wearing nothing other than a silk petticoat. There were twenty of them in the fabulous place. All that made Jill burn with what she called a quantum of solace. She felt embarrassed and excited. She had never had such mixed feelings in her life. Emotions of joy permeated her thoroughly. All the women watched her instinctively with a right amount of prejudice. In fact, she was dressed in a black gown sporting very high-heeled, black shoes. She didn’t want to upset anyone’s feelings, so she went straight to Jip, congratulated her on the occasion and placed her small parcel on the chair next to them. She embarked on a long chat, alternating nosey issues to deeper problems, which sparked off the envy of all the older ladies present at the party. Jill lost her attention because of a lady who passed by her. Could it be the stink of menses out of the clothes of that lady? “How disgusting!” She thought. That smell reminded Jill of something already known that made her feel frightened as she had never been in her life. The mystery of those feelings enveloped Jill in a stronger sensation: she would have liked to be at home straight away. Anyway, that small accident vanished soon and everybody was free to enjoy the party in a superb way.
“Hi, Jip,” Jill started. “I’m happy to be here on this special day for you. Sorry if I put your little present in the chair. Open it,” she said.
Jip unwrapped the present and found two big golden earrings with the word far from loneliness cut into them. “I hope you like them. When I saw them in the jeweler’s window, I immediately fell in love with them and I knew that it would be love at first sight for you,” said Jill.
“You are so sweet,” answered Jip. “I like all the presents I received today. But now come on. All the other ladies are waiting for us.”
Jill went to mingle with the throng, always chased by that horrible smell of menses. She didn’t dare to complain even if she had the right to do so. What embarrassed her most wasn’t just the lack of cleanliness as much as the association to something sad and unexplored she could make from it. It reminded her of the secret with Araon which was the cause of their past split up. Jill lightened her burden and started to dance into the big room to the rhythm of modern pop music. She felt awkward and clumsy as a small child looking for his soother. She had purposely forgotten her mobile phone at home not to be contacted by Araon. But now she felt guilty and tried to find devices to have Araon forgiveness once at home. She also put her hands into her pocket and found out that there was no money into it. “Don’t panic!” she thought even if she hadn’t the money to call a taxi to drive her home. This meant that she was supposed to disturb some of the ladies in order to have a lift. But for a while she succeeded in concealing her worries about the situation and went to grab some toast and other delicacies displayed on the table. She loved the black wine which was abundantly served to all the partying women. It was a successful party, which was a source of joy
for all the guests.
“Here’s to the boss,” all the women said aloud, toasting for Jip entering middle age. Jip, in her turn, sung a piece of Bono Vox to make her guests feel comfortable and happy. She had found in her way to win her loneliness a weapon to win the heart of her future husband.. She was a little tired but not anxious for the result of her manners towards all those girlfriends. She closed her eyes and dreamt of herself dressed in a white dress with lace, holding a bouquet of lilies climbing the little steps of the church. Hart was getting out of the car sporting a fashionable Armani tuxedo. Joy and peace danced in harmony all around. And soon after that she discovered herself pregnant after a sumptuous honeymoon.
“Hei!” one of the guests made her come back to reality. “You are with us. What are you dreaming of?”
“Nothing buddy. It’s a frightfully beautiful party and I thought to isolate myself to let you enjoy the dancing on the floor. Sorry, I am a bit absent-minded today,” Jip said and went to talk to another woman. They had a brief discussion on pre-marriage life just to depict homesickness the lesser evil of the occasion. Some of the ladies proposed a bet. The winner would force the others to cut part of their silken petticoats and give it to Jip as sign of good luck. Other amazing games followed. Definitely the party turned out to be a successful one. Only in the middle of the yoga session, Jip felt abandoned by her beloved Hart. “Yoga means union, but I don’t know why it breaks my heart,” she thought as a consequence of her bad feeling towards her future husband. It was midnight when El, the youngest of the women, suggested that they should make another toast for happiness to Jip. Wine and other alcoholic drinks were consumed without shame, the latest game was the loss of a little shoe as the Cinderella fairy tale suggested. All the ladies obliged to stand in a single line. The one who didn’t lose the shoe was for the bride-to-be for the day to come. One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock.… The party didn’t seem to have an end. Jill had always Araon in her mind but she wondered if it was fair to leave the party before the rest of the flock. On the other hand, she probably wouldn’t have another chance for enjoyment like this in the future. The smell of the menses came nearer again. The smell of blood, whatever the origin, frightened her a lot. It was a sign of mediocrity towards a shameful situation and she couldn’t stand it. Suddenly the lights were switched off. Jip asked for a prayer in that darkness and obscurity. It was the end of the party, after all.
The Red Box Page 13
